Jennifer Crusie - GETTING RID OF BRADLEY

“I am.” Lucy fought the sex-drugged sleep she was falling into. “You corrupted me. I thought I was going to die if I didn’t have you. I couldn’t have waited any longer.”

“Thank God, you didn’t. I was so nuts I was having fantasies about making love to you on third base.”

“What?” Lucy said, losing her fight to stay awake.

“Go to sleep,” he said and kissed her again before he fell asleep himself, his cheek pressed against her hair.

Zack, Lucy thought as she, too, sank into sleep. This feels so good.

I had no idea.

WHEN ZACK WOKE UP the next morning, he was alone, bathed in the honeyed glow of the sunlight bouncing off the yellow walls. For a moment, he wondered if he’d dreamed the whole thing, but then he knew it had to be real. He could never have fantasized that calm, sensible Lucy could make love like that.

It must have been real.

Which meant he was in a lot more trouble than he’d realized. This was the first time his reality had ever been better than his fantasy. He’d found the perfect woman living in a great house with three dumb dogs. The smartest thing to do would be to run.

The smell of bacon frying wafted up to him. Breakfast. He had a sudden picture of Lucy in the kitchen, talking to the dogs. The same sunlight that was warming him would be filtering through the front windows, making shadow patterns through the lace curtains. The paper would be on the front porch, and the dogs would be ready for a morning run in the backyard.

It was all calm and quiet and regular and routine, everything he’d never wanted; and now he wanted it and Lucy, too, but most of all just Lucy, blinking at him, and telling him he wasn’t logical, and rolling hot in his arms.

It was what he wanted forever.

What do you know? he thought, amazed, and, trusting his instincts as he had all his life, he surrendered without a qualm. So this is it. I never thought it would happen, but this is it. Responsibility. Adulthood. Dogs.

Lucy.

LUCY WAS STANDING AT the counter, blotting bacon on paper towels and trying to get her thoughts in order, when Zack walked up behind her and put his arms around her, pulling her close. She melted into him, instantly flooded with warmth and happiness, tipping her head back so that he could bend down and kiss her. Then she turned around in his arms so she could snuggle closer to him.

“No regrets?” he whispered into her hair.

“Of course not.” She tilted her face up to smile at him. “You are a wonderful lover.”

He smiled down at her. “I’d be a wonderful husband, too.”

Her smile vanished. “What?”

“I think we should get married.”

Lucy went cold with panic.

Married? After five days? She hadn’t even been divorced three weeks.

Married? With her instincts for men? With her amazing ineptitude at understanding people?

Married? With all her talk about independence and freedom and…

Married?

“No.” Lucy pulled away.

“Wait a minute.” Zack pulled her back. “The ‘No’ was bad enough. Don’t stop touching me, too.”

Lucy relaxed against him again, but not with the same melting openness as earlier. “I’m sorry. You surprised me. Thank you very much for asking. That was very gentlemanly.”

Zack scowled at her. “No, it wasn’t. That was for me. I like it here. I want to stay.”

“So stay. I like having you here. I just don’t want to get married again.”

Zack’s scowl deepened. “What ‘again’? This would be like a first time. You’ve never married me before. I’m not like Bradley.”

Lucy smiled up at him. “That’s for sure.” His scowl disappeared, and then she added, “But I’m still not marrying you. It would be totally illogical. I’ve only known you five days.”

“Five incredible days,” Zack prompted. “Six, counting today. Admit it. Your life is a lot more exciting since I showed up.” His eyes slid away from hers. “Is that pan supposed to be smoking?”

“I don’t think you can take credit for the car blowing up.” Lucy drew away from him to rescue the bacon.

“Well, there have been other exciting moments. I can think of several from last night alone. Hey, don’t touch that. You’ll burn yourself.” He took the pan from her. “Ouch!”

“Run cold water over it.” Lucy took the pan back and turned on the water.

“How come I’m always trying to take care of you, and you end up taking care of me?” Zack stuck his hand under the water.

Lucy began to fork the bacon out of the pan onto paper towels. “I think it’s mostly mutual. I bet if we really analyzed it, it would come out about equal.”

Zack stopped buttering. “You think?”

“Yep. Omelet’s in the microwave.”

Zack opened the door and peered inside. “We’ve got to get married. I love living like this.” Lucy looked at him, exasperated. “What?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Sit down and eat your omelet.”

THE MARRIAGE QUESTION put a damper on breakfast They’d moved from loving warmth to polite chill in the space of five seconds, and there were no signs of a warming trend.

The rest of the morning went downhill from there.

“I’m going back in to school next Monday,” Lucy said after breakfast.

“No, you’re not.” Zack studied the kitchen floor. “I think this gunk will come up if we keep soaking it with soap and water. You got another bucket?”

“Zack, listen to me.” She waited until his eyes drifted up from the floor, and then she spoke slowly and distinctly. “I cannot stay inside this house forever. I have to go back to work.”

“No.”

“Listen, you,” Lucy exploded. “You can say no all you want. I’m going back to work next Monday and there’s nothing you can do about it. You have the rest of this week to get used to the idea, and you’d better do it because on Monday, I am out of here.”

“Not a good idea,” Zack said, and Lucy gave a smothered scream of exasperation and stalked out of the kitchen.

“Women are so emotional,” Zack said to the dogs. “What do you think about this floor?”

AT TEN, ANTHONY dropped by, and Zack forgot the floor.

“Bradley Porter’s using his credit cards,” he told Zack when he answered the door. He walked into the living room and smiled when Lucy came into the room through the dining-room archway. “Hello, Luce,” he said and Lucy went to him and hugged him.

“What is this?” Zack said. “Unhand that woman.”

Anthony turned back to him, one arm still around Lucy. “So, you coming with me? We have to move on this. There’s a patrol car out in front to watch the place while we’re gone. Lucy will be fine.”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Lucy said, pulling away from Anthony. “I’ve been here since Thursday. I’m going stir-crazy. At least take me with you.”

“Not a chance.” Zack grabbed his jacket. “Bradley’s been shooting people. I’m not taking you into that.”

“Which Bradley, yours or mine?”

Zack shrugged into his jacket. “You don’t have a Bradley. Remember that. Come on, Tony.”

Lucy put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Don’t you think you should narrow down who you’re chasing before you go charging off like this?”

“We’ll argue about it when I get back.” Zack started for the front door, and Anthony kissed Lucy on the cheek. Zack backtracked, grabbed his arm, and pushed him toward the door. “Why don’t you cook dinner for a change?” he said to Lucy on his way out.

Lucy leaned against the back of one of her overstuffed chairs, defeated. “I’ll order a pizza,” she said, and Zack stopped and said, “No, you won’t. I haven’t gone through all of this to get you wasted by a pizza delivery man.” He followed Anthony out the front door, and Lucy felt like killing him.